How Ash Became The Archbishop Of Banterbury
by IceArceus
Summary: Arriving in Bantalave City in Sinnoh for the Banter Championships, Ash and Brock introduce Dawn to the wonderful world of Banter.


**A/N: This is a little background on the banterous adventures of Ash and friends in Sinnoh, and a deeper look into the world of banter. Sometimes banter isn't just a lifestyle, banter can be who you are…**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Pokémon (or Harry Potter)**

**How Ash Became the Archbishop of Banterbury.**

The Grand Festival and Sinnoh League were over, and now, it was time for Ash to make another one of his long time dreams…a reality.

"And exactly _where _are we going?" Dawn asked her friend Ash as he and Brock led her down an underground pass that did not look the least bit seedy.

"Why, to Bantalave City of course." The raven haired boy replied, as if it were obvious.

"Surely you mean _Canalave _City." Dawn said, bewildered.

"Noooooo." Ash drew out the syllable. "I _mean Bantalave _City, Banta Central and where _I _am about to compete in the Banter Championships."

Dawn rolled her eyes. Not this again. Ash took his banter far too seriously, and sometimes she swore the boy was delusional. Occasionally, he would disappear off for "special training _for the bants_", and now Ash was finally showing her what he meant, by making her wait OUTSIDE Bantalave because apparently "non-banters" were not allowed inside.

The trio made their way into a tavern that was situated in the depths of the underground, which seemed like a pretty sound marketing strategy. Then Brock paused at a wall in the back, and tapped his fist on the wall to the rhythm, he said, of Bantalave City.

The wall became a doorway, but before that happened, a blue light shone down from the ceiling, cloaking Dawn and rendering her temporarily immobile. There she floated, looking like she was suspended in liquid, Ash taking a sneak peak up her skirt which was moving dangerously upwards.

Then the boy sobered.

Brock looked at Ash. "You know what this means."

"You're a Bant-er, Dawn."

Dawn ended up inside Bantalave after all, and the three were walking down the main street, Bantagon Alley, with Ash trying to rapidly explain the situation.

"Dawn, there are two meanings to the word "Banter." He began, as if talking to a drug addict at a counselling session. "Sometimes Banter can just mean casual teasing and witty word usage, and that is the definition people normally use. But for those of us who live for the bants, Bant-er is who you are."

"Who you are…" Dawn repeated as holy sounding music started playing.

"A Bant-er is someone who has the inner bants and has the potential to become well versed in the world of Banter, and I mean well versed. A Bant-er becomes a master in his art, a true representative of the bants.

You, my friend, are such a person. I always thought there was something special about you Dawn." Ash said, looking like he was about to confess something. "And now I know why. You are capable of bantastic things."

"Ollibanters!" Brock exclaimed, looking at a shop. "Dawn, we have to go there. A special bant is the first thing you need!"

Dawn looked around in wonder at the floor to ceiling shelves, filled with rectangular boxes, and peered into a corridor behind the desk which seemed to lead to even more! The décor was quite old and the glass windows were blurry and stained, yet the unmistakable aura of banter was there.

"Hello!" Ash called.

There was a shuffling from round the corner of one of the shelves, and a wizened old man with long white hair came gliding along on what looked like a rather banterous moving ladder.

"Ah, I wondered when I might see your friend, Mister Ketchum" He rasped. "You told me great things about her, and it's not surprising at all to see that she is a Bant-er. Not at all."

Ash just shuffled his feet as Dawn looked at him questioningly.

"Now," the old bantmaker continued, showing her an old looking stick. "I stock a fine collection of bants, each made with one of the three finest cores, and wood from the endangered forests of Sinnoh."

"Wow." Dawn breathed, and then frowned. "I swear those look like wands from those magic films."

Ollibanter gasped. "No, miss. Bants are not to be confused with wands, just as Banter is not to be confused with magic, though the two are very, very similar."

"You have to choose a bant now, Dawn."

At this, Ollibanter looked a Brock condescendingly. "Just the same as last time, Brock. What did I say? Hmm?"

"The bant chooses the Bant-er." Brock said sullenly.

The bantmaker shuffled off. "Now let us find you a bant, Miss Berlitz."

Dawn had tried out several bants, all of which did not work, so Ollibanter had gone to fetch some of his bants from upstairs, and Ash took it upon himself to tell her more about the bants.

"As a rule," Ash said. "Dragon Bantstring produces banter with the most power and are capable of the most flamboyant bants. However, they are also the easiest to turn to the Dark Bants. My bant's core is Dragon Bantstring."

Brock started on his bant. "Banticorn hair generally produces the most consistent banter, and is least subject to fluctuations and blockages. Wands with banticorn cores are generally the most _difficult_ to turn to Dark Banter." He turned to look smugly at Ash.

At this moment, a bant flew into Dawn's hand.

"And the third core;" Ollibanter rasped. "Banticuno tail feathers are one of the rarest core types. They are capable of the greatest range of banter, though they may take longer than either banticorn hair or dragon bantstring cores to reveal this. They show the most initiative, sometimes acting _for the bants,_ a quality that some Bant-ers dislike." The old man peered closely at the wand.

"That's strange, very strange, that this bant chose you."

"Why?" Dawn asked, swishing the bant in experimentation as a glow of golden light and holy music filled the air.

"It's just that…only male Bant-ers tend to be chosen by cores of Banticuno tail feathers and Dragon Bantstring. Female Bant-ers only tend to get Banticorn cores, because they generally do not have the capability of inner bants. But I will not argue. Remember, the bant chooses the Bant-er."

Dawn looked affronted.

"The world of banter used to be quite sexist," Ash whispered. "But it's getting better." The boy peered at his Poketch. "Quick, we need to get to the Banter Championships! Now!"

"I need to head to the competitors' tents," Ash said hurriedly, as the three arrived at the entrance of a massive arena. "Dawn, follow Brock to the stands. I think the tournament tree is already displayed inside."

The group separated, and Dawn peered curiously at a device that all the competitors were passing through. "What's that?"

"Oh, that's a detector." Replied Brock. "It checks for any contrabant items that aren't allowed in the competition."

After much shuffling, they finally arrived at their seats just as the first two competitors took their places on the field.

Brock explained the basic rules of the tournament. There were a lot of them. Dawn slumped back in her seat. This was banter overload.

"And please welcome the Minister Of Overall Banter, BANTIMIUS CROUCH!" The announcer yelled to the cheering fans. After much classy and witty banter, it was now time for the final, and Ash had made it!

"Bantimius Crouch is the head of the Ministry Of Overall Banter, or the MOOB, as it is better known." Explained Brock. "A lot of cheating happens in the finals, as well as illegal banter usage. One year, I think someone tried to use an Unforgivibant!"

Dawn raised an eyebrow. "An Unforgivibant?"

"Unforgivibants can cause permanent damage to a person's inner bants, and using them will earn you a one way ticket to Azkabant." Brock said gravely. "You don't want to go there."

Ash breathed heavily as he drew his Bant and watched his hooded opponent do the same. No, he thought. It couldn't be. A collective gasp from the arena, however, proved what he saw. His opponent was in possession of The Elder Bant! There was no bant more powerful than the Elder Bant, and together with the Bantsurrection Stone and the Bantisibility Cloak, made one true master of Banter!

His opponent drew down his hood, revealing his malignant smirk and wavy blue hair.

"TOBIAS!" Ash screeched, unable to hold back his emotions any longer. "Well well WELL! Not only did you have to ruin my Sinnoh League chances with a LEGENDARY, you're here with none other than THE ELDER BANT! Are you DETERMINED to thwart me? First with Pokémon, and now you want to destroy my other banterous dreams!"

Tobias let out an evil laugh. "MWAHAHAHAHLDRJKfrthsk;ejrht v el;vfhsdrl;vth ;sdrilhv HAHAHAHAHAHAHA". He continued laughing. "HAHAAHAHAHALIHJDG:IOSH:IHDRGHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA"

About 10 minutes later, it was time for the match to begin, and Bantimius Crouch blew the whistle.

The two threw some even banter around for the best of 15 minutes.

"EXPECTO BANTRONUM!"

"EXPELLIBANTMUS!"

"SECTUM BANTRA!"

"LUMOS BANTIMA!"

"LEVIBANTUS!"

"WINGBANTIUM BANTVIOSA!"

Suddenly, Tobias gave an especially evil smirk, and raised his bant higher. A banterous green beam of light came from it, as he shouted "AVANTA KEBANTA!"

Time seemed to freeze as Tobias casted the Unforgivabant.

However, the bant never hit Ash, because something, or someone, had leapt in front of him, blocking the bant and causing it to ricochet. It hit Tobias, and all the banter he possessed left his body.

Ash ran up to the motionless heap a few metres in front of him. "No! No! Dawn!" He shook her, but she lay motionless, her bant held futilely in her hand.

Ash's tears fell as he stared at Dawn, who had sacrificed her banter for him. She would never be able to achieve the bants that he promised her when they arrived in Bantalave. The whole arena was in uproar.

As suddenly as when Tobias had casted the Unforgivabant, Dawn began to cough.

Bantimius, who had left the MOOB's box to kneel beside the fallen girl, looked at Ash. "Only those with the purest banter can survive an Unforgivabant."

"Dawn…" Ash whispered. "It's true. The bants you possess is amazing…"

And with that, Bantimius Crouch stood up. "And today," his voice rang out across the stadium. "We name the victor, Ash Ketchum, this year's Champion, and the Archbishop of Banterbury!"

**A/N: I hope you all found this banterous, reviews are welcome!**


End file.
